Late in the afternoon of Sunday, November 3,
I arrived at the West Berlin railway station. Serge had tried to smile
encouragingly when he saw me off the night before, but he could not hide his
anxiety. I had left to fulfill my promise.

My mother-in-law had tried
to dissuade me, saying: "You are right, but you may get killed. The police will
think it an assassination attempt and shoot. You ought to think of your child."

Think of him I did. I had written in German and in French a statement
to make clear the meaning of what I was about to do, no matter what happened:

By slapping Chancellor Kiesinger I want to
bear witness that a part of the German people  especially the young
 is deeply revolted at having as head of the government of the Federal
Republic of West Germany a Nazi who was assistant director of Hitler's foreign
propaganda effort.

The Third Reich represented a philosophy as stupid
as it was cruel .We don't want any more of that again, and we refuse to
allow Germans who had any kind of authority under the Third Reich to play any
part in Germany's political life . . . . Kiesinger and his colleagues are
turning Germany into a revengeful, expansionist nation that ignores the
consequences of world war and demands atomic weapons. So long as Kiesinger and
his accomplices remain in power,